


I Think I'll Keep You

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Gen, Sentinel Thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 19:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18976957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: Jim invites Blair to stay





	I Think I'll Keep You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sentinel Thursday prompt 'blush'

I Think I'll Keep You

by Bluewolf

Sometimes Jim had to smile at the irony of Blair's plea for a bed 'for a week', wondering if Blair had ever intended to move out at the end of that week. He had proved very amenable to returning Larry to wherever he had come from; the evening after Larry had trashed the loft for the second time, Jim had arrived home to find no Larry, Blair finishing off something on his laptop, and something that smelled very good simmering on the stove.

"Sandburg?"

"I took Larry back to the biology department this morning, and I've just finished writing up my conclusions on his reactions to television violence. I thought his exposure to real life violence, with the explosion at the warehouse, would make any further observations... a little suspect, so I had a word with my adviser, and he agreed. The paper I've done is a little shorter than the required length, but it's reasonably comprehensive, and because of the circumstances I don't think I'll be marked down because it's short. I'd be more likely to be penalized for obvious padding. It just needs one more read-through, and I'll be submitting it tomorrow." He closed the laptop and crossed to the stove. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

Dinner was a stew that tasted even better than it smelled, and Jim gave an appreciative, "Mmm..." as he finally put his fork down. "What kind of meat was that? I don't recognize the taste."

"Ostrich. It's red meat, but because it's bird, it's leaner than steak, and I've always thought it tastes better."

"I wouldn't say it's better than steak, but it's certainly as good," Jim said slowly. "And you're a good cook - I think I'll keep you." He grinned mentally at the slight blush that colored Blair's cheeks at that comment.

"I... I worked evenings for a couple of years as an assistant chef," Blair muttered. "Students are always short of cash - you'd be surprised at the number of things some of us can do. Oh, a lot stick with unskilled or at most semi-skilled work; they stock supermarket shelves, have a Saturday job behind the counter in a shop, work in bars once they're old enough... anything to earn them a few bucks; but some of us look for evening work that's a little more demanding. I'd been doing basic cooking since I was about ten - Mom wasn't what you might call domesticated, and when she moved in with a guy who was a pretty good cook, I grabbed the chance and learned some basic recipes. After she left there, I took over the cooking for us till I went to Rainier. When I was twenty, one of the cafes advertised for an assistant chef - I applied, got the job, and stayed for two years. Learned a lot. But then the chef left and the guy who replaced him was an egotistic moron - he was okay as a chef, but not as good as the guy he followed though he thought he was far better. So I left. I wasn't going to learn anything more from him; far as he was concerned, the 'assistant chef' was there to chop vegetables, whip eggs... yes, I was doing that for Randy, too, but Randy was also showing me what he did with the vegetables and eggs once they were prepared and even let me cook some of the more run of the mill meals. He understood 'assistant' to mean 'apprentice' where Mr. Hill - no way was he going to let his underlings call him anything less formal - thought it meant 'general dogsbody and gofer'."

"You get people like that," Jim said sympathetically.

"I know," Blair said. "They've hit their level of incompetence and have to keep telling themselves that yes, they're the ones in charge... so of course they're competent... "

"Some of them could even be quite competent but at a lower level - like     your Mr. Hill could be an excellent sous chef - that wasn't what you were, was it?"

"No, I was an assistant. It was just in a cafe, not one of the top of the range hotels. I think that was what Randy went to do - sous chef in one of the hotels, with a view to moving up to senior chef after another two or three years."

"Anyway," Jim went on, "as I said, I think I'll keep you. You haven't looked for anywhere else to stay yet, have you?"

Blair looked somewhat shame-faced. "I haven't had time yet - between everything that's happened in the last two-three days and finalizing the paper on Larry. But I'll take time tomorrow - I did promise it'd just be for a week - "

"Chief, you don't have to do that. We've managed fine these last days; you're welcome to stay as long as you want."

Blair looked at him. "Jim, I... thank you! Now, what about rent?"

"I don't need rent - the place is mine, fully paid. Just pay half the running costs - the utilities and the food. Okay?"

"Better than okay," Blair replied.

Mentally, he was high-fiving himself. Now he could save the money he had been spending on rent, living rent-free in a safe area. Not that he was strapped for cash - he had lived frugally since going to Rainier and been able to save most of what his various jobs earned him - but being able to add to his savings was always useful. He certainly didn't want to return to the time when he and his mother had been reduced to stealing discarded past-its-sell-by-date food from supermarket dumpsters while living in the ruins of a house that had been badly damaged by a fire. When she was unable to find any casual work, she had decided, after about three weeks, that it was an ideal time to pay one of her occasional visits to her parents, hitch-hiking to get there.

Not one of his fondest memories. Oh, he enjoyed visiting his grandparents, but those three weeks... They had been living in St. Louis at the time; the man she had been seeing had been killed in an accident, and his death left her destitute though Blair didn't understand why, and she had never told him why - if indeed she actually knew.

But now he would be living with his sentinel, able to study him without Jim realizing just how closely he was being studied, as well as working out strategies for helping Jim control those sometimes inconvenient heightened senses.

Yes. He would have to be careful not to seem to be taking advantage of the situation... but seriously? This time, he thought he had landed on his feet.


End file.
